


My Heart is a Ghost Town

by ShebaRen



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 14:08:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11922516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShebaRen/pseuds/ShebaRen
Summary: Stiles is sixteen and shopping for groceries, when he sees a ghost.





	My Heart is a Ghost Town

**Author's Note:**

> One of the discarded Soulmate AU beginnings I originally wrote for the Steter Network 'Summer of Discord' exchange.
> 
> Title inspired by the same song by Adam Lambert.

Stiles is sixteen and shopping for groceries, when he sees a ghost. 

 

The cauliflower he was inspecting seconds before lands on the floor with a sad bounce and he can feel the blood draining from his face. The bright lit aisles and the cheerful radio streaming from the speakers have taken a sharp turn into the surreal, because there's a fucking ghost in front of the freezers, pushing a shopping cart without a care in the world.

 

Distantly Stiles is aware of his racing heart, but breathing has suddenly become hard. He looks around himself, but no one else looks as if there's something wrong or if they suddenly see  _ dead family members _ . 

 

Right. just a ghost, nothing to see here, carry on. He looks down to the cauliflower at his feet. He should pick that up. Probably. And he means to do that, he does. Instead his hands lock onto his cart and wow, yeah that's a good idea, his knees feel kind of wobbly.

 

He looks up. Down the aisle, Derek  lifts his head and their eyes meet as if he’s felt Stiles’ stare. He looks different than six years ago (older, Stiles thinks, only that can't be right because why should ghosts age?), rougher around the edges, pale and with a drawn pinch around his mouth, like he doesn’t have a lot to laugh about. 

 

Then again, Stiles supposes, as he dizzily watches Ghost-Derek make his way over, burning alive is not what anyone would call a fun way to go. So.

 

"Stiles." Derek greets him. Stiles stares. For a moment they are just standing there, staring at each other in an awkward silence. Derek stands stock still as if he's waiting for a blow. Stiles is so, so, glad for his grip on his cart. He doesn’t think he would do much standing around without it.

"You're dead," Stiles blurts out when the silence becomes too much.

 

Derek's carefully blank face turns into a frown. "What?"

 

Stiles gestures at Derek, the vegetable aisle, everything around them. “You’re not supposed to be here.” Alive, he doesn’t say.

 

He can hear the words that come out of Derek’s mouth. He does. They just don’t make  _ sense _ to his brain.

 

Because the Hales,  _ Derek _ , they were his family. He was dealing with his mother’s death, but then the fire happened and everyone died. Leaving him to deal with panic attacks and obsessive behavior that nobody understands, because how do you understand the loss of something like part of your soul? 

 

There’s no one he can count as his best friend - that had been Cora and her family. His ADHD is not helping. He’s a spaz and most have no idea how to deal with him. He has his Dad, but that’s not the same, it’s almost worse what with being the Sheriff. Working overtime is the norm, not the exception and that means he’s seldom home at the same time as Stiles and not sleeping.

 

(And he better not think about mortality rates in the police force if he doesn’t want to provoke another panic attack.)

 

It’s not as if he was especially close to Derek and Laura, but here Derek is, standing close enough to touch and telling him they left him when they could have stayed, and that’s not- you don't _ leave _ family. (They all got taken, and he didn't leave his mother even when she didn't remember him anymore). 

 

And then Derek tells him that Peter is in the hospital in Beacon Hills, has been there the entire time, and Stiles, Stiles is no better than them, because Peter has been here the entire time,  _ alone _ . In a coma. And Stiles  _ didn't know _ . 

 

He leaves the shopping cart in the middle of the aisle, doesn't look back once.

 

He drives to the hospital in a daze. Later he can berate himself for forgetting everything about safe driving, but in this moment the only thing he can think about is Peter.

 

Peter, who had not only been as alone as Stiles, but was stuck in a coma. Stiles feels numb, but his chest aches with the entire feeling of loss ( _ angerbetrayalwhydidyouleaveme _ ) that should have belonged six years into the past but isn’t, because - because Peter is  _ here, _ in Beacon Hills.

It’s a good thing Derek gave him the room number, because he knows his way around the hospital (has been there enough times when his mom was here and staying in the same  room got too much). He doesn’t think he could deal with talking to anyone at the moment.

 

Nobody pays him any mind as he walks through the long term ward. The nurses are all busy with their day to day tasks and he supposes that even here visitors are the norm. (Should have been the norm for Peter, too. God. It hurts, thinking about it.) 

 

When he can see the door with the right number next to it, his brain begins to race with doubts. What if there is just another unknown person behind the door? It could be a prank (a cruel, cruel, prank). Any minute now there will be a camera team jumping out from nowhere, yelling “Surprise!” or something. Stiles swallows the rising bile in his throat down and takes a deep breath. Before he can come up with a dozen excuses not to open the door, his hand grips the handle and pushes it open.

 

It’s a small room and for a second there is blood rushing through his ears and he can’t breathe, because the lone bed in the room is empty. But then he registers the small visitor chairs by the open window and there - 

 

It’s Peter.  

 

His knees buckle, threatening to give out completely. With two large steps he is by Peter's side and able to look him in the face. There's no recognition in Peter's eyes. No reaction to his sudden presence.

 

It's so different to before. Before the fire, there was never a moment where Peter's focus didn't shift to Stiles as soon as he entered a room. He had always a sixth sense if it concerned his soulmate.

 

"I'm sorry," Stiles whispers. It seems wrong somehow, for him to stand next to his soulmate and have to angle his head down to look at him when it had always been Peter who was larger than life. He slumps down to the cold hard floor and unbidden one of his hands sneak around a pyjama clad leg.

 

"I'm sorry," he says again, breath catching in his throat. He looks up, doesn't know what he expected, but Peter is still staring into nothingness.

 

He weeps.


End file.
